Children poems
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Dickens: Sonnets
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
CHIEF in thy generation born of men
Whom English praise acclaimed as English-born,
The Wanderings Of Oisin: Book III
© William Butler Yeats
Fled foam underneath us, and round us, a wandering and milky smoke,
High as the Saddle-girth, covering away from our glances the tide;
And those that fled, and that followed, from the foam-pale distance broke;
The immortal desire of Immortals we saw in their faces, and sighed.
Son Of A Scoundrel
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Big Barney Fitch, he got soddenly rich
He got a big fancy house in Melbourne
With buckets of loot and big black leather boots
Acting so haughty and well-born
An Epitaph On Sr John Walter, Lord Cheife Baron
© William Strode
Farewell Example, Living Rule farewell;
Whose practise shew'd goodness was possible,
Who reach'd the full outstretch'd perfection
Of Man, of Lawyer, and of Christian.
An Epitaph On Mr. Fishborne The Great London Benefactor, And His Executor
© William Strode
What are thy gaines, O death, if one man ly
Stretch'd in a bed of clay, whose charity
Doth hereby get occasion to redeeme
Thousands out of the grave: though cold hee seeme
A Strange Gentlewoman Passing By His Window
© William Strode
As I out of a casement sent
Mine eyes as wand'ring as my thought,
Upon no certayne object bent,
But only what occasion brought,
American Feuillage
© Walt Whitman
Whoever you are! how can I but offer you divine leaves, that you also
be eligible as I am?
How can I but, as here, chanting, invite you for yourself to collect
bouquets of the incomparable feuillage of These States?
The Four Ages of Man
© Anne Bradstreet
1.1 Lo now! four other acts upon the stage,
1.2 Childhood, and Youth, the Manly, and Old-age.
1.3 The first: son unto Phlegm, grand-child to water,
1.4 Unstable, supple, moist, and cold's his Nature.
Warning The Carpenter
© Edgar Albert Guest
My Pa, he took me on his knee an' spanked me for it, too,
An' Ma, she jus' sat down an' cried the whole long evenin' through;
She says there ought to be a law to keep bad men away
From decent neighborhoods like ours where little children play.
You let me get a wallopin'. An' I don't think it fair,
Say! Ain't you got no Pa an' Ma to teach you not to swear?
Meditations Divine and Moral
© Anne Bradstreet
A ship that bears much sail, and little ballast, is easily
overset; and that man, whose head hath great abilities, and his
heart little or no grace, is in danger of foundering.
The finest bread has the least bran; the purest honey, the
In Reference to Her Children
© Anne Bradstreet
I had eight birds hatched in one nest,
Four cocks there were, and hens the rest.
I nursed them up with pain and care,
Nor cost, nor labour did I spare,
In My Solitary Hours in My Dear Husband his Absence
© Anne Bradstreet
O Lord, Thou hear'st my daily moan
And see'st my dropping tears.
My troubles all are Thee before,
My longings and my fears.
Olney Hymn 48: Joy And Peace In Believing
© William Cowper
Sometimes a light surprises
The Christian while he sings;
Epitaphs
© Anne Bradstreet
Her Mother's EpitaphHere lies
A worthy matron of unspotted life,
A loving mother and obedient wife,
A friendly neighbor, pitiful to poor,
Before the Birth of One of Her Children
© Anne Bradstreet
All things within this fading world hath end,
Adversity doth still our joys attend;
No ties so strong, no friends so dear and sweet,
But with death's parting blow are sure to meet.
A Dialogue between Old England and New
© Anne Bradstreet
New England. 1 Alas, dear Mother, fairest Queen and best,
2 With honour, wealth, and peace happy and blest,
3 What ails thee hang thy head, and cross thine arms,
4 And sit i' the dust to sigh these sad alarms?
Le Mort Joyeux (The Joyful Corpse)
© Charles Baudelaire
Dans une terre grasse et pleine d'escargots
Je veux creuser moi-même une fosse profonde,
Où je puisse à loisir étaler mes vieux os
Et dormir dans l'oubli comme un requin dans l'onde.
The Moon
© David Berman
Inside the car a young lady wears a corsage of bullet-sized rodents.
Her date, the handsome cornerback, stretches his talons over the
molded steering wheel.
The Organ-Boys Appeal
© William Makepeace Thackeray
O SIGNOR BRODERIP, you are a wickid ole man,
You wexis us little horgin-boys whenever you can:
How dare you talk of Justice, and go for to seek
To pussicute us horgin-boys, you senguinary Beek?
Sow
© Sylvia Plath
God knows how our neighbor managed to breed
His great sow:
Whatever his shrewd secret, he kept it hid
